


The Standard Parameters Do Not Apply

by abeautifullie3



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Fuck Or Die, M/M, PWP, Wincest - Freeform, curse fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 20:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1361005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abeautifullie3/pseuds/abeautifullie3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Birthday Porn!  Boys forced to cross brotherly boundaries...and having a surprisingly good time doing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Standard Parameters Do Not Apply

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Only very brief mentions of anything, but to be safe, spoilers thru s6e11. Slight sexual references to OMC's and Jess.  
>  **Disclaimer:** The story is mine. The boys, and all things canon, not mine. *pouts*
> 
> Originally Posted Here::: http://abeautifullie3.livejournal.com/39815.html

 

 

x~X~x  **The Standard Parameters Do Not Apply**   x~X~x

 

 

 

"It's alright."

"No, it's really not."

"Sam, come on, considering everything we've been through...had to do, does this even..."

"Yes!"

"Dude, honestly, I'm the one who should be freaking out here. Sure you tend to get all emo and crap, but you're also the matter-of-fact one; I'm the one who goes postal about shit. Plus, near as I can tell, I'm the one who's about to get his ass stuffed with that...that..." Dean's eyes go wide again, hint of fear evident as his wild stare flashes over his brother's bare cock. "And what the _hell_ did I even feed you as a kid! Damn!"

Sam rolls his eyes, still kneeling between Dean's spread legs on the motel bed. He's been in the same spot for near ten minutes, knowing there's no other way out of the _how the fuck do they even get into these messes?_ curse, yet still unable to move forward despite his straining erection attempting to sway him. "Dean."

"What? You're hung like a fucking moose, Sammy."

"Not helping things here."

"Yeah, well, if you'd get on with it."

"Why aren't you freaked out? Really?"

Dean sighs and scrubs at his face. "You honestly don't know?"

"No."

Lifting up onto his elbows, Dean locks his eyes with his brother's. "I've spent my whole life looking out for you. Sold my soul for you, went to hell for you, tried to do "normal" for you. I bargained with Death to get you back, Sam, so this..." Dean simply gestures between the two of them and doesn't say anything more. He doesn't need to.

Grabbing the bottle of lube, Sam nods and flicks the cap open. He can't look at Dean as he squeezes some onto his fingers and asks, "Have you ever...you know?"

"Had some girls who got a little kinky about where they liked to put their fingers."

"Guys?" Sam dares a brief, peripheral glimpse at Dean before he moves closer to his brother's body.

Dean licks his lips nervously. "A few blow jobs here and there."

"You?" Sam can't keep the surprise out of his voice as he lays a shaky hand on Dean's thigh.

"Yes, Sam, I've sucked cock - and got off on it. If you must know, I had a guy shove his tongue up my ass in some bar bathroom in Michigan. Got off on that too."

"I...I don't. I didn't..."

Dean snorts.

Sam sees the insecurity behind Dean's snarky facade and quickly speaks up, "I kissed a guy in high school. Had some drunken make-out sessions at Stanford. And I...uhh..."

Spreading his legs wider, Dean inhales sharply when Sam traces a finger around the furled skin of his hole. "What? You what, Sammy?" Dean bites into his lip with the breach of Sam's finger.

"Used to let Jess fuck me with a strap-on."

"Damn." Dean pauses, rubbing at his eyes. "Wow I really have no business finding that image so hot." He falls back against the bed and throws his hand over his face.

Chuckling lightly, Sam slowly works in another finger and watches Dean's hand dig into the cheap motel bedspread. "You doin' OK?"

" 'm fine."

"Maybe I should have used my tongue," Sam jokes.

"Next time."

"Huh?" Sam squeaks, his fingers coming to a screeching halt inside Dean.

"That came out...I didn't mean...just if we ever have to... Fuck, I was kidding, Sam."

Sam shakes his head blankly, stops a moment to try to think, then immediately regrets the words tumbling out of his mouth before they've even all escaped, "I still could, if you want me to. I mean, if it would be better..."

"What?!" Dean scrunches up his face, then sighs and throws his arms out wide against the bed in dramatic exasperation. "Oh for the love of...would you just get your fingers out of my ass, slick up that ginormous dick of yours, and fuck me already?"

"Dean, I don't want to hur..."

"Sam, you're about five seconds away from me pinning you to the bed and going full-blown cowgirl - boy - what-the-fuck-ever on you."

"Fine," Sam snaps, grabbing the lube in a huff and squirting out far too much along his length. He's still fairly baffled at his ability to have gotten hard under the circumstances, but chalks it up to the curse. Wedging himself between Dean's open thighs, Sam places the tip of his cock against Dean's tight pucker and looks down into Dean's face for any last sign of hesitation. All he finds is a wicked twinkle in his brother's eyes.

"Come on, big boy. Give it to me good." Dean can't keep a smirk from tugging at the corners of his lips.

Sam drops his head down, his hair falling around his face to trail against Dean's chest. Of all the insufferable things his brother puts him through... "No fucking way! You are _not_ running off bad porno dialogue while we do this. I'll take whatever consequences that warped bastard cursed us with."

A bit of the mirth drains from Dean's face. "Oh that's right, you stormed off before the whole part about the long, agonizing death, didn't you?"

Head darting up, Sam searches Dean's expression for any signs that he might be joking. There are none. "Huh. So the shriveled dick, blindness, and scorching case of herpes wasn't enough I take it?"

"Nope."

"No porn track, Dean. At least give me that."

"Only if you can keep me screaming instead, lover."

Dean winks at him, actually winks, and that's it. "If that's what it takes." With no warning, Sam thrusts forward into the constricting heat of his brother, the overuse of lube helping to ease the way past the rings of under-prepped muscle. Sam doesn't stop until his balls come to rest against Dean's ass with an obscene _slap_.

Eyes blown eerily wide - barely a green sliver of Dean's hazel still visible to separate the black and white - his head jerks up long enough to look down to where every inch of Sam's cock is buried in his ass. He screams out as his head falls back against the pillow, "Holy fucking...."

"That all you got?" Sam's being an entirely smug bastard, and at the moment he has no problems with that. Dean's channel is painfully tight around him, but if he's managed to render his cocky big brother speechless, it will be well worth it.

"Nngghhh!"

Sam snorts in amusement, but keeps himself from laughing as a rush of concern washes over him. He's pretty sure Dean's fine, but he asks anyway, keeping his tone light and as emo free as possible, "You alright?"

Dean simply bobs his head erratically as he garbles out a string of nonsensical syllables.

"Gonna move, Dean. Just try to breathe and relax." Sam rocks his hips back until he's half-way out, then slowly slides back in. He plays around with several more thrusts, trying to find some sort of specific stroke or rhythm that feels good - and more importantly turns Dean's little hurt whimpers of pain to something more akin to pleasure. He's close to giving up - "Man, I'm sorry, I'll try to hur..." - when he apparently does something right.

"Sammy!" Dean's eyes that had been scrunched tightly closed fly open as he arcs sharply off the bed. "Again!"

Sam struggles to recall exactly what he had done, and rolls his hips into Dean with a small shift to the right as he sinks deeper.

"SonOfABitch that's good!"

"Dude, I must have hit your..."

Dean interjects, panting harshly as his cock fills against his belly, "Thought it was a fucking myth! Or maybe I just didn't have one. None of those girls ever...always just felt weird. But this... Fuck, Sam."

"That good, huh?" Sam chuckles, unable to hold back the wide smile on his face when he aims for that spot again.

Biting into his lip, Dean simply nods; eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he allows the lids to close not in agony but pure bliss.

It's hard for Sam to keep angling just right to hit Dean's prostate each time, and he figures it's a miracle that he even found it at all. With Dean much looser around him now, he chances a more comfortable motion of fucking in and out of him and is pleasantly relieved - and a bit surprised - for Dean's hips to start moving with him. It's a little off at first, but once their motions synchronize - just as they do on a hunt - it's good. Really good, and Sam can't help but to moan his pleasure, "Dean."

"Yeah, Sammy. Yeah."

 

They hadn't kissed, no foreplay whatsoever. Had simply stripped, grabbed the lube, and settled on the bed after they'd gotten back to the motel; the majority of their discussion over how to proceed post-curse left in the Impala. But staring down at Dean's parted lips, puffy from Dean biting down into them and slick with saliva, Sam can't fight the urge to duck his head to press his own lips against them.

Dean startles a little. Let's out a surprised gasp muffled by Sam's lips and shakes his head slightly at the intrusion.

Sam's near certain Dean's thinking the same thing he is: that kissing each other is oddly more strange - and intimate - than fucking. He's quickly coming to the conclusion that his impetuous lip lock was a mistake, until he feels the hesitant tickle of Dean's tongue against his barely parted lips. Regardless of being the one to initiate the kiss, Sam's shy to his brother's coaxing but slowly opens with a drawn out wanton sound he's fairly sure he'll get teased for later.

Smiling briefly against Sam's mouth in response to the sweet noise coming from him, Dean reaches up and twines his fingers in Sam's hair, pulling him into a deeper kiss. The first explorations of his tongue in Sam's mouth are tentative, cautious. Then Sam's tongue is twisting with his and within mere moments something new-curious-exciting explodes into frenzied need and claiming.

Sam thrusts wildly into his brother - cock and tongue; Dean's hands tugging at his hair, roaming down his back to pull him in even tighter as blunt nails do their damnedest to sink into flesh. He can't think anymore, everything is Dean-Dean-Dean and he wants to drown in the combined sensuality and safety of it. Sam is so far gone, he's amazed that he even manages to register the sensation of Dean's hand snaking between their sweaty bellies. It does take him a good minute to sort out exactly _why_ Dean would be reaching there...and mentally kicks himself when it dawns on him. Shifting his weight to one arm, Sam quickly thrusts his hand down to brush away Dean's hand and replace it with his own grip around Dean's thick, leaking cock.

Dean groans in ecstasy coated relief and rocks up into the large hand steadily jerking his aching shaft.

" 'm a damn idiot, Dean. I'm sorry, didn't even..." Sam mumbles his apology into the salty skin of Dean's neck.

" 's alright. New equipment to think about, I get it."

Nuzzling along the taught line of Dean's neck, Sam really does feel bad. Shifting his focus from his own _so-fucking-close_ release, he puts all his attention on Dean, working his brother's cock with his own perfected technique and hoping it has the same effect. The way Dean begins to writhe and keen beneath him, he counts it a success.

A hot mess of overwhelming sensations, Dean barely manages to utter pleading directions to Sam, "Lit...little tiii...gahhter. Thu...thumb the sli...mothhherfucking ahhnngh!"

Sam had easily and instantly followed Dean's instructions, but it's actually grinding his thumb down into Dean's slit that sends his brother shooting string after string of thick, milky white fluid over both of their stomachs. Between the complete and debauched hotness of making his big brother cum, and the fluttering clench of Dean's ass against his cock, Sam shoves deep once, twice, and it's game over - his release flooding his brother's ass, which if Sam could have another orgasm on top of the one he's currently having at the thought of that he would.

 

They lie there in silence for several minutes, each of them struggling to find some sort of normal breathing pattern again. Sam's face is snuggled into the crook of Dean's neck and shoulder - his softening cock still nestled inside his brother - and he really doesn't want to move. If he thought he could get away with it, he'd let his weight settle against Dean's chest and happily fall asleep there - mess of cum between them be damned. Which, yeah, he really needs to do something about that.

"Sam," Dean finally manages to speak, though he's still obviously breathless and spent.

"Hhhm?" Sam's playing it cool, but inside his guts are churning over what might come next.

"That was..." Dean gently brushes a hand through Sam's hair.

Sam smiles. "Yeah, it was."

"You're still not falling asleep on top of me, Sasquatch."

Sam barks out a laugh and shifts up to slowly withdraw from Dean - whose hiss is interrupted by a lewd squelch when Sam's cock is finally freed.

"Oh that's just wrong."

Dean looks downright mortified, and laughing even louder Sam moves to get off the bed. He figures the least he can do is go get a wash cloth and clean him up. He isn't expecting the hand that darts out to grab him.

"Where are you going?" Dean seems just as startled by his question as Sam is.

"Bathroom," Sam answers quietly, but hesitates to move. Looking Dean over - head to toe and back again - it's like a hard kick to the gut the way he suddenly sees his brother. He'd always recognized that Dean was attractive, and known that he loved Dean more than anyone - or anything - in the world, but he'd never once put the two things together. Not like he would, they are brothers. But then again, in their world the standard rules and parameters of things rarely apply. Reaching his hand out, Sam brushes his thumb over the smattering of freckles on Dean's cheek. "I'll be right back."

The expression on Dean's face is entirely too young and vulnerable as he nods.

Walking across the room, Sam stops at the doorway to the bathroom and calls back over his shoulder, "Next time, I'm working you open with my tongue." Sam half expects some snarky reply, but gets nothing as he goes into the bathroom to wet a washcloth and grab a dry towel. Heading back for the bed, he watches Dean absently pick at the worn fabric of the bedspread.

"What if there is no next time?" Dean's voice is barely a fragile whisper, and his eyes are open and seeking pools as they lock with Sam's.

Sam kneels on the bed, wiping Dean's stomach with the warm washcloth as he cups his brother's face in the palm of his other hand and slowly leans in for a kiss. "Oh, there will be a next time."

 

x~X~x  _The Standard Parameters Do Not Apply_   x~X~x


End file.
